Of Fists and Flour
by Lustful Muse
Summary: Bella has been dating Mike since high school, but after their eighth anniversary, she catches him at work with his barely-legal secretary. Furious, and possibly out of her mind, she decides to join her best friend's boxing class. From there her life is a flurry of changes. Watch as heads turn for this more confident Bella…


**Author's Note: Hello! It's been a long time since I've posted anything, but this idea had been floating around in my mind so I decided to put words to paper. **

**This story plays upon the clumsy and insecure part of Bella's character, but my intent is to "remold" her into a stronger, more confident woman. There will be no vampires, werewolves, or other supernatural elements. Instead, this story is set in modern-day New York City at a time when Bella is approximately 25 years old.**

**As for love interests, she will start off dating Mike Newton, but the story will enfold with Bella encountering other characters. And yes, I would be happy to hear any suggestions you may have, be it for love interests, scenes, or more! So far I know that Edward and Jacob will show interest in her... but Bella may encounter more than just those hotties, *wink wink***

**Now let the story begin!**

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><p>I coat the chicken pieces with flour before sliding them into a pan on the stove, careful not to let the sauce splash. Next, I grab some chopped mushrooms from the counter and add them alongside the chicken. The aroma of chicken marsala fills the kitchen, filling my stomach with anticipation.<p>

As of today, I've been with Michael for eight years. He's been my sweetheart since high school and I have high hopes that soon we'll be married. My eyes find the wall filled with our pictures, memories of the wonderful life I've had with him.

After setting the cow timer Michael had given me for my birthday, I leave our meal to cook and begin setting the table. The dining area in our apartment is tiny, but overlooks a gorgeous view of New York City.

I'm glad that I agreed to move here with him after high school so that he could pursue his law degree while I studied culinary arts. Even though I've changed my mind about owning my own bakery, never once have I regretted it. Michael was right when he said that doing so would be too consuming, that it would take away from the time we could spend together. Yet, as I check the clock for the fifteenth time, I can't help but wonder why he's taking so long to get home.

Finally, my cell phone vibrates and I nearly trip over my feet as I rush to check it.

_Busy with work,_ my eyes quickly read, just as another text comes in.

_Don't wait up._

My eyes remain locked on the screen for several seconds, waiting for another text to come in because surely there will be one. There has to be. I cannot believe that Michael would ever forget our anniversary.

Would he?

Unbidden, a picture of his new secretary enters my mind. I remember meeting her at the company party last Christmas. She had looked pretty, with her blonde hair and trim figure, but didn't seem a day over eighteen. Michael has been spending a lot more time at work lately, but that isn't any reason to be suspicious. I immediately squash down any feelings of jealousy. I know that Michael is handling an important case right now, it isn't fair of me to nurture unfounded worries.

I decide to send him a text to ease my mind.

_Do you remember what today is?_

I wait a couple minutes, yet still there is no reply. The timer goes off and I check on the chicken. I smile as I think about Michael's face when he sees our dinner. Chicken marsala has always been his favorite.

My phone vibrates again and it's from Michael.

_Be home soon._

Relieved, I begin placing the chicken onto our plates. I arrange a few candles on the table and grab the expensive wine I had purchased last weekend. I run to the bathroom to do a quick mirror check. My brown hair has fallen loose from my ponytail so I quickly yank it out and attempt to brush the strands. The heat from the stove has made it a frizzy mess, but there's nothing I can do at this point. I glance down at the slight bulge around my midsection. My sweet tooth and decrease in exercise has lead to weight gain, but I suck it in and put on a smile. For a second, I consider changing into a looser top, but then I hear the front door opening and I dash back to the living room.

My eyes light up as I watch Michael remove his shoes at the door. I go over and grab his coat and briefcase, all worry within me easing now that he is home.

"Here babe, these are for you," Michael says as he hands me a bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane. "Happy anniversary."

The coat slips from my arms as I try to grab the flowers. Michael and I reach for it at the same time, but with his briefcase in my arms too, I accidentally hit him over the head.

"What the…" he cuts off, clenching his eyes shut and turning red.

I freeze and look down at the briefcase I am holding, noticing how the corners have been reinforced by metal. My insides wither as I watch him bite his lip.

"Honey, I am so sorry! I didn't realize that you were gonna reach down too! Wait here, I'll grab some ice! I know I've made some earlier this morning and I…"

He holds a palm up and I immediately stop talking, feeling all the more guilty as he rubs at his temples. Finally, he opens his eyes and looks at me.

"It was just a little bump. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

I shift my weight from side to side. I'd hate to point it out, but I can already see a bruise forming. _Damn it, way to go Bella!_

Desperate to ease the sudden awkwardness, I glance down at my flowers. I smile, but for a moment my lips falter when I spot the price tag. $5.99 from Thrifty Mart. I assume it's from the one down the street from our apartment. Nevertheless, I brighten once again and reach up to give Michael a kiss. He turns to place his keys on the counter and my lips land on his cheek instead.

"They're beautiful," I tell him, holding the slightly wilted daisies to my chest.

Michael gives me a close-lipped smile then notices the dinner on the table. Finally, his eyes light up with true enthusiasm.

"I made your favorite," I tell him, eager to salvage the situation.

Michael sits at the head of the table and I quickly grab the wine. He holds his glass out and I cringe as I slosh some over the rim, right onto the cuff of his white business shirt.

I want to apologize, but Michael grabs the bottle from me instead. His lips are in a firm line as he finishes pouring his wine and then grabs my glass to pour some for me as well.

"Thank you," I whisper and take my seat beside him.

Michael begins eating, an expression of contentment on his face and that gives me the courage to try once again.

"How was your day?" I ask, slicing a modest sliver of chicken, ever conscious of my weight gain. I feel his eyes on me and so I daintily place the chicken in my mouth, dabbing at the corner of my lips in case any sauce may have landed there.

"Fine," he replies, taking another forkful of chicken.

Even Michael has put on some additional weight over the years, but said that his busy schedule entitles him too. Women are held to a different standard. I need to be more careful of what I eat. It's unbecoming for a woman to be fat, he had told me all of this before, as his eyes had scrutinized my figure.

For a moment I bristle as I recall that memory. Yet, as I look at Michael now, I know he had only said that in my best interest.

Once we are both finished eating, I begin gathering our empty plates and carrying them to the kitchen. Michael rubs his stomach and makes his way into the bathroom.

"I'm gonna shower," he says as I continue cleaning up.

I hear the water turn on and scrub the dishes more quickly. Normally, I take the time to dry everything before putting it away, but this time I just leave them to air dry in the dish rack. I blow out the candles and hurry to our bedroom.

I can still hear the water running and so I know the coast is clear. I pull out the pink Victoria's Secret bag I've been hiding and take out the sexy lace teddy I bought earlier. I remove all my clothes and slip it over my head, luxuriating in the feel of silk upon my skin. The bodice pushes up my breasts and really accentuates how full my chest is.

Feeling daring, I decide to forgo the matching thong. With my plump rear, the bottom of the teddy is just long enough to cover my assets and provide a tantalizing peak of what lays underneath.

The water shuts off and I move to the bed, angling my body in a suggestive manner. Then I remember the lights and rush over to dim them, setting the mood for what I hope will occur tonight. It's definitely been too long.

By the time the bathroom door opens, I've repositioned myself upon the bed.

At first Michael's eyes widen when he sees me and a thrill shots through me, knowing that I've surprised him. But then his eyes roam down my body. They seem to linger on every ounce of fat I have. After several seconds of his scrutiny, I am rethinking this whole plan.

Finally he walks to me and I have to fight the urge to cover up. There is no desire in his eyes, only thinly veiled disgust, and I can hardly bear to look at him. My eyes find the mirror across from our bed and then I see what Michael has seen all along.

_I really am too fat._

Horror and revulsion fills me. I scoot over and Michael lays down. He makes no move towards me so I get up to turn off the lights. In the dark, I can sense Michael wrestling with himself. I can vaguely make out his arm hovering in the air as though reaching for me, but then he pulls back and turns over. With a mumbled good night, he is asleep. I curl onto my side as well, our backs facing each other, and feel the tears well in my eyes. A single drop escapes and I quickly wipe it away.

"Happy anniversary," I whisper in the dark.

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><p><strong>Have you ever been in such a loveless relationship? I'm sorry that Bella has to start off this way, but it's important for setting the stage for all the changes that's to come.<strong>

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